


Arrivals

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: F/M, Homecoming, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 19:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14409144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Could you do one where Roger Waters and the reader are finally together after months of being apart?'Hope this is okay!





	Arrivals

The people flow around you like streams as you stand there, waiting and watching the arrivals board. His plane has been delayed, and you have been here for a few hours – you’re hungry, and tired, but you know how he must feel.

As people thread around you, you close your eyes, hoping that when you open them, he will finally be here. His plane has apparently landed – you know that he will be amongst these people-

“Darling.”

And then there he is.

You exhale, and suddenly its as if the people around you aren’t even there – it’s just you and Roger, face to face. He looks tired – those eyes, like steel, are surrounded by purple bags, and he looks a little pale, but you kiss him anyway, and he wraps his arms around you, bag forgotten on the floor.

“Oh god, I’ve missed you.” He holds you close, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Oh god, seeing you a day at a time has been hell.”

“I missed you,” you whisper in return, and he clings to you, the two of you an island for a moment.

“Let’s go home,” he murmurs, and as he kisses you again, you feel a smile spread across your face.

* * *

You open your eyes, and feel a flutter of panic for a moment; and then you roll over, and there he is, his back and his hair barely visible in the darkness. You snuggle up close, wrapping yourself around his lanky frame, and breathe in the smell of his skin for a moment – you still ache from your intimacy as soon as you arrived home, and its something you’ve missed so painfully that it feels good.

Your fingers gently stroke down his side, and he stirs – you stop. You don’t want to wake him up, not after how exhausted he was after he came back, and instead curl up to him, listening to his breathing and his heartbeat through his chest. You hold onto his hipbone, and he presses back against you, breathing slow and heavy.

“I love you. And I missed you. You know that?” you whisper, and there is no reply. Roger is dead to the world, and you gently reach up, tracing your fingers over his cheekbones. “I love you.”

“Mm. Love you too, sweeth’rt.” He rolls over and engulfs you in his arms, and you reach up, gently playing with his long brown hair. “I missed you too… what time is it?”

“3am,” you murmur, and he shakes his head.

“No. The phones are off, the alarm clock is unplugged, and we are staying here.” You nod, and as you drift off in his arms, you smile gently. It’s safe here.


End file.
